


“I…I can’t do this without you.”

by SecretlyThranduil



Series: What Good Was Your 'Union'? [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Halls of Mandos, M/M, Mae has been on his own for too long, Poor Maedhros, discussion of suicide, post break-up?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25191574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretlyThranduil/pseuds/SecretlyThranduil
Summary: For tumblr prompt: “I…I can’t do this without you.” + Russingon
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Series: What Good Was Your 'Union'? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824916
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36





	“I…I can’t do this without you.”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NelyoNelyos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NelyoNelyos/gifts), [8Lottie8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/8Lottie8/gifts).



Fingon was gone. 

He had left him. And Maedhros had deserved it. 

He was never going to see him again.

His love’s last words, spoken to him in anger, had haunted him for what seemed like millennia.  
_“You don’t get to call me that, not now. I need time. And we have all the time in the world, we are doomed, after all. Don’t come looking for me.”_

Fingon had loved him until his end. But not anymore. 

Maedhros had respected his wish. He hadn’t gone looking for him, and it was killing him. Or, it would be killing him, if they weren’t already dead. Everyone was dead, and it was all his fault. Just imagine who could have survived, if he had been able to keep his brothers in check. He had seen Finrod, just briefly in the distance, but had left before he noticed him. That was a whole other layer of guilt he hadn’t even scraped the surface of. Someone else he would never be able to apologise to.

He stayed out the way of everyone, it was better that way. He hadn’t even seen his brothers. He hadn’t even looked for them. Was Maglor here too? He didn’t know. He’d betrayed him too.

But Fingon was still the worst of all. The look of betrayal on his face was something he would never forget. He was right, it was his fault, he wasn’t there. There was no way in Arda he could apologise for something like that. He should have tried harder, if it were the other way around, Fingon would have saved him.

Maedhros had never been worthy of him.

Did he even know what else he had done after the Nirnaeth? Did he know about Doriath? About Sirion? He had resorted to kidnapping _children_ after killing their parents. Did he know about Eonwe’s camp and the theft of the silmarils?

Did he know about his _suicide_? 

_If only it had gone the way I had intended_ , Maedhros thought. _I wanted to burn myself out of existence. If I had succeeded in destroying my Fea, Fingon wouldn’t have had to see me. I wouldn’t have tormented him with my appearance in the halls, destroying his well-earned peace. He can’t even escape me in death._

Why hadn’t it worked, had the Oath kept him here? _Darkness doom us_ , that is what they swore. He would not be surprised if the Oath had stopped him taking control of the last bit of his life he thought he could control. He could not even control his death.

Instead, he was here, with his deeds haunting his every moment. Fingon’s death haunted his every second. There was no escape. 

He didn’t know how long it had been since his arrival in the halls. Decades, centuries, millennia? He hadn’t sought anyone out, and no one had sought him out. No relatives, no maiar, not even Namo. 

He deserved to be alone.

Forever.

…

_Wait, who is that?_

_It can’t be!_

Maedhros didn’t dare get his hopes up. It couldn’t be, he’d said he needed all the time in the world to heal from what Maedhros had done to him. He didn’t expect to see that face again until the breaking of the world. He had to be hallucinating, surely!

But he was not.

It was him.

It was Fingon.

And he didn’t look angry, he didn’t even look betrayed. Maedhros didn’t dare to move, let alone speak, lest this apparition of his love disappear. It seemed like an eternity until they were face to face, barely an arm’s length between them. It was another eternity until Fingon spoke, words Maedhros had longed to hear but yet seemed heavier than his final words to him had been. 

“I…I can’t do this without you.”

What could he possibly say to that? 

“I can’t do this without you Maedhros”, Fingon continued. “I tried to hate you, I really did. I hated that you broke your word, that you didn’t come for me. I kept asking myself what I did wrong, why you never came for me, why you didn’t love me. I thought you left me to die. I even came to regret saving you from Thangorodrim. But I was wrong, Russo.”

Oh, that name. Maedhros never thought that nickname could sound so good. Did he dare hope that he was forgiven?

“I asked everyone Russo, I asked what happened at your end of the Nirnaeth. I’m so sorry, you told me the truth. I hadn’t wanted to believe it. Please, please forgive me, my Russandol.”

The halls seemed less cold, less constricting, at those words.

He had forgiven him. Fingon had _forgiven him_. How was that even possible?

He did not deserve such forgiveness, but he would rather doom himself again than let Fingon go.

“Oh my Finno, there is nothing to forgive.”


End file.
